


Creation, Composition, Color

by a2zmom



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Community: open_on_sunday, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Pre-Canon, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-16
Updated: 2004-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a2zmom/pseuds/a2zmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Three interrelated drabbles written for the <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/open_on_sunday/">Open on Sunday community</a>. Prompt was LJ mood theme. Theme used was "creative".</p></blockquote>





	Creation, Composition, Color

Creation

Liam lies, half hidden in the copse, eyes semi-shut in concentration. He feathers a stroke here, uses his thumb to smudge a line there and the forest around him is magically transferred to his slate. Nothing exists except the sanctity of drawing, so immersed in the purity of it that he doesn't hear his da's heavy tread until too late.

Later, as the hickory branch traces yet another design onto his back, Liam takes refuge in his dreams. Someday he'd leave Galway and make all of Europe his canvas. The urge to create the world anew will never be quenched.

 

Composition

They are an average family, eating breakfast. Mother is about to have some tea. Brother is just a brief moment from sticking his fingers in the jam-pot. Sister is more than happy to report her brother's transgressions. Father, at the head of the table, is half-hidden by his newspaper, reading the latest market report.

Angelus waits in the shadows, pleased with this tranquil domestic scene. But as he examines it with a slightly more critical eye, it seems that something is missing. Moments later, he arranges the family dog against the leg of the boy, casually avoiding the pooling blood.

 

Color

For a long moment, Angel just examines the box of oil crayons. Cordelia's thoughtfulness has touched him beyond words. He chooses a crayon, rolls it in his hand and lets the vibrant color slide over the paper.

He adds a tiny bit of white to the swath of blue and blends it together, but he thinks the Galway sky was a touch darker. He adds a dab of titian, hint of black, a smear of violet.

Finally he takes the box and hides it under his gray-black-brown sweaters. Life drained of its rainbow essence is all he'll ever draw again.

**Author's Note:**

> Three interrelated drabbles written for the [Open on Sunday community](http://community.livejournal.com/open_on_sunday/). Prompt was LJ mood theme. Theme used was "creative".


End file.
